


Battle of the Gingers

by Grundy



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Kingkiller Chronicles - Patrick Rothfuss, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Crossover, Gen, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 08:35:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13232046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grundy/pseuds/Grundy
Summary: What happens when you try to make our four favorite redheads fight?





	Battle of the Gingers

**Author's Note:**

> This bit of silly fluff started [on a Tumblr thread](http://grundyscribbling.tumblr.com/post/168596524183/alia-andreth-grundyscribbling), and I told [alia-andreth](https://alia-andreth.tumblr.com/) I would write it down at some point. This is some point. Happy New Year!
> 
> Also, if it's not clear, I know about *thismuch* about Kvothe, so Kingkiller Chronicles fans, take this with a sizable shaker of salt.

Maedhros knew as soon as he woke that he was not in his own bed in Amon Ereb.

It was the sort of thing one noticed, particularly when the bed one had been moved to without so much as a ‘by your leave’ was a good foot too short, leaving one’s feet dangling awkwardly.

There was someone else in the room with him.

On the bright side, there was no feel of darkness to them.

On the less bright side, they were neither elf nor Man so far as he could tell.

He shot up, hoping to catch them by surprise.

The babble that emerged from the masked being’s mouth made little sense to him.

Maedhros frowned.

The masked one waved a wooden stick around, and Maedhros felt a surge of power.

“Can you understand me now?” it asked.

Maedhros nodded curtly.

“Who are you, and why have I been abducted?” he demanded bluntly.

He forebore to add ‘where am I’, since he doubted that would get anything approaching a true answer.

“My name is not important,” the being – it sounded Mannish, though that power was anything but – replied. “I suggest you prepare yourself. Battle will commence in an hour.”

“What battle?” Maedhros growled. “Who are you to force me to fight?”

“You will fight if you wish to have any hope of returning to your own world,” the being told him smugly.

Maedhros had already noted that the knife he habitually kept under his pillow had not been brought with him, but there was a cup on the table that would do damage if it connected with a head. He threw it with devastating accuracy.

But it was too late. His captor had vanished in a puff of smoke, and the cup smashed against the wall.

\---

Sansa was frightened.

The world had just dissolved around her, and when it re-formed, she was no longer in the Eyrie. This place was far more elegant and comfortable, but she instinctively distrusted whoever or whatever had done this.

Good people did not, as a rule, move you from a difficult to access stronghold without asking. And the manner of her being moved was like something from one of Old Nan’s stories, nothing like the real world she was used to dealing with.

Nor was this the game Petyr often spoke of – she supposed it might be a game of sorts, but it was a different one, and she understood neither the rules nor the stakes. And she felt terribly vulnerable here alone.

“Welcome, Lady Sansa Stark,” a voice said.

She whirled around, looking for the speaker, but saw no one.

“Apologies if I have alarmed you, my lady,” the voice said, though it did not sound terribly sorry. “Other contestants have reacted badly, and it seemed safer to stay outside your chamber. Please prepare yourself. Battle will begin in a three quarters of an hour.”

“Battle?” Sansa repeated, trying not to let her voice crack. “What battle?”

_Ladies do not fight battles, at least not personally!_

But whoever it was speaking made no further answer

\---

Kvothe was more than angry when he came to. Pissed off might begin to approximate his feelings. Whoever had done this must know him well enough to predict his reaction, though, because he discovered his hands had been tied and his eyes covered.

He suppressed his anger and waited. He’ll get even.

“Battle will begin in half an hour. I suggest you not kill your partner,” an amused voice announced.

He growled. Whoever his ‘partner’ is may be the only person he doesn’t want to kill right now.

\---

Ginny hasn’t been this furious since the Battle of Hogwarts.

She’s been cataloguing the spells whoever brought her wherever the fifth level of Hell this is used, and so far, incarcerous, stupefy, several locking spells, undetectable and unplottable charms are all on the list. Oh, and clearly someone disarmed her while she was knocked out, because her wand is neither on her nor anywhere close enough to summon.

The fact that you can summon anything _as long as you have a wand_ is really annoying when the one thing you need is your wand.

“Oh, excellent, you’re awake. Battle of the Gingers commences in fifteen minutes. Sorry to say you ended up with the cranky one for your partner.”

That voice sounded familiar. Where has she heard it before? Ginny poked through her memory until she placed it. Oh, right…

“Theodore Nott, you better hope someone else gets you before I do!” Ginny yelled. “Azkaban will be the least of your worries! I can’t believe of all the things to commit first degree kidnapping over, _this_ is what you go for!”

“Aw, c’mon, Weasley, I’m betting on you!”

\---

Fifteen minutes later, she was unsurprised to find herself moved to something that looked suspiciously like an arena.

The incarcerous had been removed, and her wand was on the ground in front of her. She snatched it up immediately and was relieved to discover it didn’t seem to have been tampered with. (Doesn’t mean she isn’t still planning on slowly roasting a certain nerdy wizard in his own spit.)

She cast a silent ‘protego’ immediately, along with several other pre-emptory defensive spells before she looked around.

A tall young man who looked close to her own age was glaring at her from several yards away. He had no wand, and no obvious weapon. She looked at him suspiciously.

“I suppose you’re my partner?” he asked, not sounding terribly pleased. “Great. Figures I drew the short straw.”

Ginny snorted. As far as she could tell, he wasn’t much of an ally either. Not that you could judge a wizard by looks, but his attitude wasn’t going to win him any friends.

“Who are our opponents?” she asked flatly.

He pointed to the other end of the arena.

Ok, she was willing to admit that going on size alone, they were at something of a disadvantage.

Both the woman and man on the opposite side were easily taller than either of them.

\---

Sansa panicked when she was dumped into what appeared to be a fighting pit, appearing next to the tallest man she’s ever seen. He was at least a match for the Mountain in height, though thankfully he looked somewhat less frightening.

She stumbled, and was surprised to find his hand gentle when he caught her – and he had only the one. She didn’t take him for a thief, so she suspected this was not the first ‘battle’ he had seen.

“Are you all right, my lady?” he asked courteously.

“Yes, I thank you, ser,” she managed.

A lady’s courtesy might be her armor, but she couldn’t imagine it was any help against actual swords. She could see one that must be his lying on the ground several feet away.

“Have no fear, we will soon get to the bottom of this,” he assured her. “My name is Maedhros Fëanorion. How do you name yourself?”

“Sansa of House Stark,” she replied, trying to hide her nerves and uncertainty. She’s never heard of this man, and he wears no sigil that she recognizes. “Where are we, ser?”

“I have not yet discovered that, Lady Sansa.”

“There was a voice that spoke of a battle,” she said nervously.

“Yes, I heard something similar,” he replied. “Please do not trouble yourself. You are quite safe.”

“From you, perhaps,” Sansa said, feeling less nervous the more she spoke with him.  He had not attacked her yet, nor even made any move toward the sword. His main concern seemed to be to set her at ease. “But what about them?”

\---

Maedhros glanced in the direction young Lady Sansa had indicated. There was another pair at the opposite end of the large ring they were in. From what he could hear, their opposite numbers were having a rather less civil conversation.

The boy seemed inclined to actually follow through on the ‘battle’ spoken of. The girl was smaller than Sansa, and perhaps a few years older.

It did not escape his notice that they all sported red hair.

He wasn’t about to attack either girl. He would fight the boy only if he was foolish enough to attack.

“Let us find out,” he suggested briskly. He moved in front of Sansa, to be sure that if there was any attack, it would have to go through him to reach her.

“Hello there!” he called. “Do either of you understand what’s going on here?”

It was the girl who answered.

“Some stupid wizard due for an ass-kicking thought it was funny to set up a ‘battle of the gingers’!” she called back. “Just hang tight, I’m pretty sure someone’s noticed I’m gone by now!”

“You do not intend to fight, then?” Maedhros asked, just to be clear. “I myself will not attack unless forced to defend my companion or otherwise provoked!”

“Works for me!” the other girl replied.

\---

Kvothe glared at his useless partner.

“What do you mean, ‘works for you’?” he demanded furiously. “In case you missed it, the only way either of us gets to go home is by winning this fight. And I do _not_ intend to stay here, wherever ‘here’ is!”

She glared right back.

“I just heard the seven foot tall guy with a big fuck-off magic sword say he didn’t intend to attack unless provoked or unless we’re evil enough to go after an unarmed Muggle,” she shot back. “I’m okay with ‘let’s not provoke him’.”

\---

Maedhros blinked at hearing his sword described as ‘magic’.

“Lady Sansa, are you familiar with this world?” he asked uncertainly.

The lady shook her head.

“I don’t think this is Westeros,” she replied gravely. “Do you know what’s going on over there?”

Maedhros realized she was unable to hear the argument escalating at the other end of the arena, though it was perfectly audible to him.

“The girl does not wish to fight us, and believes help is on the way,” he explained. “The boy is more inclined and perhaps even eager to fight, but I believe if he does, he may find himself fighting his partner as well as us. I think he will be the one to make the first move, for good or ill. Keep behind me, I should be better able to weather any attack.”

\---

Sansa blinked back tears. She’s never even met Ser Maedhros before yet he’s proving a truer knight than any she’s known since leaving Winterfell. She’s not going to see him hurt if she can help it. And the lady at the other end of the pit doesn’t want to fight either…

“May we know your names, good lady, noble ser?” she called from behind the shelter of her tall defender.

“They are quarreling again,” Ser Maedhros murmured. “He thinks it some form of trick, that we may work some witchcraft on them. She tells him he is being stupid.”

“Well, he _is_ ,” Sansa huffed- but quietly, hoping the other pair did not have ears as sharp as Ser Maedhros.

“I am Sansa of House Stark, and my partner is Maedhros Fëanorion!” she added at a volume the other two should easily hear, to show good will.

 “My name is Ginny Weasley!” the girl at the other end yelled back. “I think we’re somewhere in my world. Which means my family and friends should be here soon to get us out of this mess. As long as no one does anything _stupid_ before they get here, we’ll all be fine and we’ll get you back to wherever you’re from as soon as we can!”

A suppressed snigger from Ser Maedhros suggested the pointed use of _stupid_ had been aimed at Lady Ginny’s truculent unnamed partner.

“Might we make an agreement not to attack each other?” Sansa suggested. “An alliance?”

Maedhros chuckled.

“The boy is being quite rude,” he told her quietly. “Lady Ginny is furious with him.”

“Allies it is!” Ginny of House Weasley called. “Can I come stand with you guys? My so-called partner here is acting like a baboon’s backside!”

“Of course, Lady Ginny!” Sansa replied. “It would be far better not to have to shout at each other.”

Lady Ginny was halfway to them when her former partner did something, Sansa wasn’t sure quite what, which knocked her down.

\---

“Stay here, lady!” Maedhros said urgently to Lady Sansa, taking up his sword and sprinting to where Lady Ginny had fallen face-first.

He was nearly to her when she rolled to face the way she had come, waving her stick furiously at the boy who had been her supposed partner.

Cords shot out of the stick, wrapping around the boy, while his hands were encased in blocks of ice. Then large, animate blobs of slime began to erupt from his nose. He spluttered and began to say something, but found a cloth floating over his mouth, tying itself securely behind his head, gagging him quite neatly.

“Hit me from behind will you? Have fun with a Bat Bogey special!” Lady Ginny snapped.

That was when a red-haired woman who looked reasonably similar to Lady Ginny appeared. With a furious shout, she advanced on them.

\---

“Mum!” Ginny hollered, spotting the warning signs of her mother about to absolutely destroy a threat to her children. “ _He’s_ the only problem!”

She pointed at the stupid idiot who had hit her with something like a trip jinx from behind.

“This one’s a friend!” she added, pointing at Maedhros for emphasis.

Maedhros had reached her, and offered her a hand – his only hand, she noticed, feeling slightly sick at the stump his other arm ended in – to stand back up.

“Are you all right, my lady?” he asked in apparent concern.

“I’m fine,” she replied. “Idiot boy there bit off more than he could chew.”

“I had noticed,” he told her gravely.

Oh, man. Ginny’s a happily engaged woman, but she’s also the tiniest bit jealous of Sansa of House Stark right now. Maedhros Fëanorion may be a hand short, but he’s otherwise easy on the eyes, polite, respectful, and not about to tolerate anyone being rude or nasty to people he’s decided are his.

“Well!”

Oh, right, her mother. Her mother who thinks Harry is the best thing since sliced bread and is definitely going to notice Ginny making eyes at Mr. 7 Foot Tall And Wields a Mean Sword.

“Mum, this is Maedhros Fëanorion,” she introduced him. “And his, um, friend, Lady Sansa Stark.”

Lady Sansa’s eyes were wide and worried as she joined them.

“Lady Weasley,” she trilled, dropping a perfect curtsey. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

\---

Molly Weasley’s temper was rapidly cooling.

Theodore Nott and his old schoolmates were not, as had first been suspected, Voldemort supporters trying yet again to bring back the definitely dead Dark Lord. They were just a bunch of nerds who had ended up arguing in the pub over who was the Best Ginger and in their less than sober state decided bringing the four redheads in to duel was the best way to settle it.

Once they had been sure Ginny was in no serious danger, her brothers hadn’t been able to stop laughing.

Molly was less amused. She wasn’t sure which one of the three former Slytherins and one Ravenclaw currently sobering up at the Ministry to face charges had the nerve to suggest involving her daughter. (She didn’t think dragging poor Sansa Stark here was much better.)

“Is everyone all right?” she asked, looking the three sensible rescuees over with a concerned eye.

Ginny nodded, Sansa murmured that she was fine, and Maedhros waited until both girls had answered before assuring her he was in good health and thanking her.

“The Aurors are sorting everything out now. It may take some time, though.”

Indeed, she saw Harry and Ron unceremoniously hauling the boy who had been hit by a Bat Bogey Hex away.

“In the meantime, perhaps we could bring your friends back to the Burrow, Ginny,” she suggested.

“The Burrow is our home,” Ginny explained.

 “That is very kind of you, Lady Weasley,” Sansa said. “I would be honored.”

“If Lady Sansa is happy to go to the Burrow, I will accompany her,” Maedhros told them.

Molly  glanced as his right arm.

“I think we’d better have one of the Healers take a look at that, young man,” she said briskly. “It wasn’t done by dark magic, was it?”

\---

Maedhros blinked.

“No, just a normal sword,” he replied. “It is an old injury, well healed.”

Lady Ginny let out a rather unladylike snort.

“I wouldn’t have said so,” she sniffed. “As long as it wasn’t done by dark magic, they should be able to re-grow it for you. It may be a bit unpleasant, Harry said having the bones put back in his hand hurt like…”

She broke off abruptly with a blush and a sideways glance at her mother.

“Hurt like a thing that really hurts,” she finished, though that was plainly not what she’d originally intended.

“But in the meantime, Mum does a pretty good lunch, and I’ll make lemon cakes. It’s probably going to be a while before the Aurors even finish taking statements. What do you say?”

The idea that he could have his hand back would have driven him to brave far worse than _lunch_.

\---

“That would be lovely, thank you,” Sansa replied, taking Ser Maedhros’ arm.

He appeared too shocked by the notion that a hand could be _re-grown_ to answer, not that Sansa blamed him. But he has been brave and kind to her, and she will not see him miss such an opportunity.

She doesn’t believe in songs, not anymore, but she’s willing to take a chance on this. She’s already seen several impossible things today, so she is prepared to believe this one can be real if it means that someone who has done good may be rewarded for it.

 


End file.
